strength to move a hill
by lucklessforhim
Summary: Feel I'm on the verge of some great truth, where I'm finally in my place, but I'm fumbling still for proof. / Jesse/Rachel. / Follows 'half of me' and 'fresh from your war'. / Rachel never ended up finding an apartment...


**Title:** strength to move a hill  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>I do not own Glee or any of its characters and I am making no money writing this. It's just for fun. Title and summary taken from "Wait" by Alexi Murdoch. "When It Don't Come Easy" belongs to Patty Griffin.

**Note:** This is the third, most likely final, installment in my Jesse/Rachel series.

Please, read and tell me what you think! Seriously, comments absolutely _make my day_.

one - half of me.  
>two - fresh from your war.<p>

* * *

><p>Rachel never ended up finding an apartment that sufficiently met her specifications. Too big, too small, too expensive, and too dangerous of a neighborhood; that was all that Jesse heard for months.<p>

She was standing at the counter chattering on about the latest round of prospective residences that they had toured in the past week, taking her morning regimen of pills in between sentences with gulps of orange juice. She took the last of the vitamins, and all that was left was her pain medication for her knee and the little pink one that kept her and Jesse young and carefree.

"I'm still not sure about the one we saw Wednesday, but it's going to go fast," she said, coming over to sit across from him at the table after swallowing the last of everything.

"We'll look at every apartment in New York," Jesse told her, completely unconcerned, while he continued to sip his coffee and read the paper. "And if we still don't find anything, we can move on to look in New Jersey," he added, hiding his smile behind his coffee cup.

Rachel gasped dramatically, choking a little on the banana she'd been chewing.

"Bite your tongue, Jesse St. James!"

Rachel was shocked that he would even suggest such a thing. Rachel Berry was not a Jersey Girl. She was born to live in Manhattan, built to walk these streets, destined to make her home _here_…Or, okay, one of the outer boroughs _temporarily _if necessary.

"Just stay here," Jesse told her, all hints of teasing gone from his tone.

For a full minute it seemed like he had finally achieved the impossible and rendered Rachel Berry speechless.

"What?"

"Come on, Rachel. You've been living here for the past five months," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I didn't realize that I was being such an inconvenience," she said tensely, moving across the kitchen to rinse out the bowl she'd been eating fruit from.

Jesse sighed. Not two minutes ago they'd been having a nice breakfast together.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Jesse said firmly.

He watched her shoulders relax, all the fight draining from her body in a single second.

"I know," she said, a tremor lacing her voice.

He heard her sniffle and saw her shoulders start to shake slightly. Jesse worried that he had really fucked things up, pushed her too far too fast.

"Hey," he assured her, quickly crossing the kitchen to wrap her up in his embrace. "I'm sorry. You don't have to stay if you don't want to. I wasn't trying to pressure you into anything."

"I know," she mumbled into his shirt. "It's just..."

"What?" he prompted gently after she trailed off.

"What if I never get it together?" she asked, just above a whisper.

That was the million dollar question.

In the five months that Rachel had been in New York she'd found work, but nothing that got her excited. There was nothing like the rush that she felt on a stage, and she worried that she would never find that again; that she had lost something invaluable forever.

"You will," he promised, pressing a kiss to her temple. "You will."

Rachel sniffled and moved her head before Jesse felt the soft touch of her lips against his neck.

"Did you just wipe your nose on my shirt?" he asked a moment later, laughing.

"Maybe," Rachel blushed, pressing her face further into the crook of his neck.

"Well, it's always available if you need it," he told her, pulling back to look into her eyes.

"I love you so much," Rachel told him, meeting his gaze with a grateful smile.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Rachel pulled her coat tighter around her small body, shivering in the chill of the early December air. Her eyes continually scanned the street for any sign of Jesse, who, she noted, was supposed to meet her twelve minutes ago.

Make that thirteen.

She honestly can't remember why she even agreed to this in the first place. They were certainly going to be out late, and she had to give a vocal lesson to a particularly difficult seventh grader on the Upper East Side at 8 am. She was already dreading it, and she really didn't want to confront the horrid little monster sleep deprived. She might just throw him out the window of his penthouse apartment if he pulled his usual bullshit.

She was in the middle of contemplating the _legal_ ways she could torture her student - he hated red leather, yellow leather scales and she could easily make that the bulk of the lesson - when a cab stopped right in front of her.

Jesse stepped out, looking delicious as always, and flashed her a brilliant smile.

"Been waiting long?" he asked, giving her a quick kiss.

She checked her watch.

"Sixteen minutes," she reported.

"Sorry about that. Traffic."

"I don't even know what I'm doing here, Jesse. I have work in the morning," she complained, allowing him to take her hand and start to lead her down the street.

"It's a surprise," he responded. "Just trust me."

He shrugged before rolling his shoulders a little, and Rachel felt just a tiny bit bad about all of the complaining she'd been doing in her head. He had rushed over here from the theater and the least she could do was try to make this a nice night out for the two of them.

"I do," she assured him, giving his hand a squeeze. "But you're starting to sound like a broken record with the 'just trust me' stuff."

Just then, he stopped and Rachel noticed that they were standing in front of a small piano bar filled with affluent patrons. Through the window she saw that the tables were scattered around a large, impressive Steinway, and that the low lighting of candles on the tables created the perfect intimate ambiance.

"We're here," Jesse announced, just in case she hadn't caught on, and he felt Rachel stiffen slightly. Anyone else might not have noticed, but he wasn't just anyone else. "Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she whispered without a moment's hesitation.

"I want to hear you sing tonight," he told her. "In front of people. I want you to perform."

When she first got to New York, she had gone to auditions for anything she was physically capable of. Plays, record labels, voice acting, everything. She'd _tried_, and time after time she was rejected.

As it turned out, it was difficult to find work in something you weren't trained for. Seeing a list of musicals on her resume inevitably raised the question of why she wasn't doing _that_. That usually led to a tense and awkward discussion about her life over the past year and her forced change of direction with her career.

So, she fell back on the one thing she was sure she could do. She criticized people. She used her perfect pitch and her expensively trained ears and vocal cords to teach other people to sing; to help them go after _their_ dreams.

She had become a for-hire version of Mr. Schue. Time and time again, that fact never failed to depress her. This wasn't supposed to be her life. She was supposed to be a star.

"I know the guy playing tonight, and he's excited to have someone of your caliber sing along," Jesse explained, tugging her hand to pull her closer.

She took a deep breath and looked inside at the guy behind the piano. He seemed to look like he knew what he was doing, but how could she be sure? She had never even _met_ him before, much less _practiced _with him.

"Rach," Jesse said, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Just please try this? For me?"

Wordlessly, she nodded and let him pull her inside.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

The pianist's name was Caleb, apparently. He and Jesse had gone to UCLA together, and he had just moved out to New York with his partner a few weeks ago. Tonight's gig was a favor to Caleb from a friend, and if he managed to wow the patrons he'd be given a regular slot.

Rachel shook Caleb's hand following the introductions and noted that his hands were wonderfully, classically suited to piano. Long, slender fingers with enough muscle tone to hold up to playing long pieces.

"You have lovely hands," she told him immediately, and Jesse and Caleb both had to laugh. From anyone else, with a tone any less earnest and professional, it would have sounded like a come-on.

As it was clear that she was eager to be professional and get into the thick of things, Caleb dove right in, handing her sets of sheet music and asking her what she thought.

Rachel's job was clear. She was there to add the pizazz and the sparkle. The set list was all songs that she was familiar with, things she could take from ordinary to exquisite.

Jesse had played samples of Rachel's work for Caleb beforehand and absolutely raved about his girl who was talented as all hell. When Rachel asked what Caleb had heard, Jesse smiled and said, "Day by Day."

That particular song was a sensitive subject for her because she sang it in a showcase devoted to Stephen Schwartz at Carnegie Mellon her junior year, having been passed over for the _Wicked_ selections. Both songs from _Wicked_ could not have gone to performers less talented and deserving in Rachel's opinion, and she'd told Jesse as much when she showed him the video of the performances.

Without knowing the backstory, Caleb thought back to the video he saw and hesitantly commented, "You seemed…a little angry."

"I had two songs from _Wicked_, basically my _birthright_, stolen from me by two jezebels who pulled the wool over our director's eyes by showcasing not their _talent_, but their God-given _assets_. I was more than a _little _angry."

"Noted," Caleb nodded, no hint of disapproval or even surprise on his features. "Well, there's no _Wicked_ for tonight's set, but if we ever perform together again, I'll be sure to pick something magnificent for you. Maybe that would help make up for the asshole director?"

Rachel quirked a small smile. "It might help."

"So, you'll sing tonight?" Jesse asked hopefully.

"I haven't had a chance to practice or warm up," she protested, standing behind the piano between Caleb and Jesse.

"You need to practice My Man? _Really_, Rachel?"

She rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, but said, "I see your point."

Jesse opened his mouth to say something else, but Rachel cut him off before he had the chance.

"You know what, honey? Why don't you go find a table and let me discuss some things with Caleb," she said, clearly leaving no room for argument.

Jesse looked between Rachel and Caleb. Warily, he noted the gleam in her eye and started to worry for the clueless pianist. That was the one point of the night when he wondered if this was all a mistake.

"We'll be fine," she said with a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

"O-kay," he responded slowly. Still unsure, he gave her a kiss and slowly headed over to the bar for a drink.

Rachel watched him walk away and, not for the first time, felt incredibly lucky to have someone that loved her this much. She didn't appreciate it being sprung on her like this, but she knew there was no way she would have come otherwise. Jesse knew her well enough to know that though, and he'd taken the time to set this up for her.

Turning to Caleb, she said, "Let's talk about the set list."

"Cool, yeah. What about it?"

"My Man is a brilliant choice. Show tunes are kind of my specialty and Barbra is my idol, so we're good there. Isn't It Romantic and It Had to Be You are both songs I'm equally familiar with, and gorgeous standards. Lovely choices."

"Great. Thanks so much for doing this. I've got some instrumental stuff first, and then you come in after my break. So, just have a drink with Jess and relax," Caleb smiled. He was clearly nervous and Rachel could certainly relate to that.

"Okay, sounds good," Rachel smiled back. She started to walk towards the table where Jesse was waiting for her, but turned back a second later. "There's something I was hoping you could add to your set."

"What is it?" he responded, completely open.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Rachel took a deep breath and sat down next to Jesse at the small round table. She smiled seeing that there was already a Tom Collins with an orange slice waiting for her next to Jesse's vodka rocks.

There was something quietly significant about being so familiar with her that he knew what she wanted without her telling him, something intimate in the fact that he knew something as small as her drink order so specifically.

"Did you guys settle the set list?" Jesse asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"Mm-hmm," she said, sipping her drink, not offering any other details.

"So you're okay with this now?" he asked quietly, running his thumb soothingly over the smooth skin of her arm.

"I think tonight might be good for me."

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Her Barbra was flawless of course, her voice swelling with emotion in the proper places, and all in all a gorgeous tribute to the original _Funny Girl_. She took It Had to Be You and made it her own. Jesse found himself thinking he was sure that no one could possibly compare to his Rachel. When she finally got to Isn't it Romantic, Jesse wanted to grab her off the stool she was on and take her home. He wanted to lay her out on their bed and make love to her in the moonlight. This gorgeous, amazing, strong woman quite simply did things to him that no one else ever had.

He was checking his pockets to make sure he had his cell phone, keys, and wallet as her tribute to the late, great Ella was coming to a close. He wanted to whisk her away and was counting on getting to at least second base in the cab.

But, then something unexpected happened. Instead of running into his arms, she stayed seated on the stool while Caleb switched out his sheet music. Clearly, there was something else.

Rachel took a deep breath and closed her eyes, centering herself for the next performance.

Jesse recognized the song immediately. When Rachel first got to New York, she'd plug her iPod into the dock in the kitchen and play this song or the album it was from on repeat while she cooked dinner or baked countless batches of baked goods, her bare feet tapping along to the slow beat.

_Impossible Dream_ was the name of the album. It was also the life she was living.

He understood it. She was adjusting. He used to stand on the other side of the wall near the kitchen, just out of sight, and listen to her sing along with the music. Even when she thought that the banana bread was her only audience, she sounded amazing.

He knew this song by heart; he'd heard it so often flowing from the kitchen as she prepared dinner for them both or just baked to calm her nerves. He could tell by the way she was singing that Rachel loved this song. Sure, she loved all music, but some music was special to her, held a place in her heart not available to just anything.

_I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight,  
>Everywhere the water's getting rough,<br>Your best intentions may not be enough,  
>I wonder if we're gonna ever get home tonight.<em>

_Oh_. That's why she was singing this song tonight. Even after all these months she was still adjusting to the changes that fate and a careless man in a pick-up truck had caused in her life. She was fast approaching the one year anniversary of her accident, and Jesse felt her trying to steel herself against the onslaught of pain; memories of performing that were now more bitter than sweet.

Jesse listened to the lyrics and slowly started to move toward the stage, feeling the raw emotion in her voice pull him forward. He needed to let her know that she wasn't in this alone.

She sang the chorus beautifully, her voice hauntingly gorgeous with the piano as her only accompaniment. She saw Jesse readying himself to join her, and she narrowed her eyes at him questioningly in a way that he still found adorable, even so many years after their first meeting.

_But if you break down,  
>I'll drive out and find you,<br>If you forget my love,  
>I'll try to remind you,<br>And stay by you,  
>When it don't come easy. <em>

Jesse joined in on the second verse, taking her hand as he started to sing.

_I don't know nothing except change will come,  
>Year after year what we do is undone,<br>Time gets moving from a crawl to a run,  
>I wonder if we're gonna ever get home. <em>

Flawlessly, Rachel took over to sing the bridge, and he honestly felt his breath catch in his chest.

_You're out there walking down a highway,  
>And all of the signs got blown away,<br>Sometimes you wonder if you're walking in the wrong direction. _

He knew she was confused, knew she was searching for a way feel like herself again. Singing the chorus, his voice swelled with emotion as he promised to stay with her, to love her, no matter what.

_But if you break down,  
>I'll drive out and find you,<br>If you forget my love,  
>I'll try to remind you,<br>And stay by you,  
>When it don't come easy,<br>When it don't come easy, oh. _

The last verse was hers, he knew that. That was the reason that she chose this song to sing tonight. If the chorus was their promise to each other, this verse was Rachel's promise to herself. She was singing about the love that she lost in her accident, the fame she hadn't had a chance to achieve.

_So many things that I had before,  
>That don't matter to me now,<br>Tonight I cry for the love that I've lost,  
>And the love I've never found,<br>When the last bird falls,  
>And the last siren sounds,<br>Someone will say what's been said before,  
>Some love we were looking for. <em>

On the last line of the verse she met Jesse's eyes, and it stopped being just about her and her sorrow. He knew was she was trying to tell him. The love that she had been looking for was him, and finding it made every part of her life better.

"_When you break down_," he sang into his microphone, smiling at her.

"_I'll drive out and find you,_" she sang back to him, smiling just as wide.

They joined in together for the rest of the last chorus, their voices blending, making the song theirs. As she sang, holding Jesse's hand tight in her own, Rachel thought that this was what it felt like to find _home_. This was what _right _felt like.

_When you forget my love,  
>I'll try to remind you,<br>And stay by you,  
>When it don't come easy,<br>When it don't come easy, oh. _

Jesse and Rachel's voices faded out together while Caleb's fingers stilled over the keys of the piano on the last note as he drew the song to a close and the patrons in the small club all clapped politely.

Rachel saw one older woman at a table in the middle dab gently at her eyes, offering Jesse and Rachel a small, knowing smile. Rachel smiled back and caught the woman's eyes for just a second before Jesse pulled her into a tight embrace.

"I love you," Jesse whispered fiercely against the shell of her ear.

"I love you, too," Rachel responded just as fervently.

Off the stage, in the shadows, he backed her against a wall and kissed her until she forgot where she was and what she had been doing, forgot everything but him and his love.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

That night, as she was drifting off to sleep, he whispered "Stay with me," against the heated and sweet skin of her shoulder blade.

Rachel's heart skipped a beat, but she just closed her eyes tightly and pretended to already be asleep.

Only after Jesse's breathing evened out and his embrace loosened did Rachel risk a glance at him. He was snoring softly in the moonlight, and in that moment Rachel realized that he was everything she ever wanted forever. She _wanted_ to stay with him, but she couldn't say it. Why couldn't she fucking tell him?

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

She finished her appointments the next day right on time as usual, and went back to the apartment.

_The_ apartment or _Jesse's _apartment; not her apartment.

She tossed her keys into the bowl in the foyer and thought about that for a moment. She was no closer to figuring out what was keeping her from accepting Jesse's offer than she had been when he made it a few days ago.

She loved him. She loved him so much, and she _wanted _to make plans with him. She wanted to make this apartment their home.

Then, a voice inside her head that she only heard because she was being still for once in her life said, "When have you ever gotten what you want?"

And the pieces clicked into place, the picture coming into horrific clarity.

This was about her accident. Not only had it robbed her of her dreams, but it was making her afraid to truly want anything else for fear of losing it.

Her relationship with Jesse, her happiness, wasn't going to be added to the list of things she'd lost that fateful December day. She was determined not to let it.

She rushed into the kitchen and started pulling a myriad of items from the cabinets, counter and fridge. Butter, flour, sugar, eggs, vanilla, baking soda, baking powder.

She saw the time on the oven and threw herself into her task to get it done by the time Jesse got home.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Jesse came home from his show and tossed his keys into the bowl in the entryway next to Rachel's, just like normal. What was not normal was Rachel sitting on the kitchen counter in her bathrobe. Usually she was in bed, reading or knitting or just waiting up for him to hear about his day.

"Hey," he greeted her, his confusion evident in his tone.

"Here," she said abruptly, holding out a plate of cookies.

"What's this?"

Several star-shaped cookies were arranged carefully on the plate, covered in fluffy white frosting and flecks of decorative gold sugar.

"My famous sugar cookies," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry for my drama queen meltdown the other day. This is just…" she trailed off, searching for the words for a moment. "Never how it was supposed to be."

Jesse nodded solemnly before taking a cookie off the plate and biting the star in half.

"Hey, these are really good," he said, still chewing.

"Thanks," Rachel responded, laughing softly. She reached out to wipe a bit of frosting off the side of his mouth, a casual yet intimate gesture that seemed as natural and effortless as breathing after sharing every part of herself with him for the past five months.

"You could open a bakery or something," he suggested, stuffing the rest of the cookie into his mouth.

Rachel froze, the thumb she had been licking free of frosting still in her mouth, looking at him with wide, panicked eyes.

"Too much?"

"Yes. Let's start smaller, like where I'm going to live."

"Okay," he said, prompting her to continue.

"I think I would very much like to stay here, with you," she said finally.

"You _think_?" Jesse asked, mirroring her response to his proposal in Pittsburgh.

"I _know_," she confessed quietly, picking at a loose thread on the tie of her bathrobe. "I love you."

Jesse took a deep breath, her downcast eyes breaking his heart. Carefully, he took the plate of cookies from her lap and set them aside. Threading his fingers through her silky long hair, he tilted her face up to his.

"I love you, too," he whispered before kissing her gently. He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers. "Even when you drive me crazy," he chuckled.

"Really? Even then?" she asked playfully.

"_Especially_ then," he promised, grinning.

This time she pulled him in for a kiss, and it was deep and demanding, full of love and gratitude. She slipped her tongue into his mouth and gripped his shirt, pulling him closer.

His hands moved down to her waist and he slid them around to her back, pressing her small form tightly against his broad, muscular chest.

She pulled back slightly to nip at his lower lip and his left hand found its way to the knot of her robe. Deftly untying it, he slipped his hand inside the folds of terry cloth to feel her soft, warm skin. He ran his hand across her smooth, flat stomach, and thanked his lucky stars that she was his again.

Rachel gasped against his lips as his thumb brushed the underside of her breast, the movement causing one side of the robe to slip off of her shoulder.

Jesse eagerly moved to explore the newly exposed skin with his lips, teeth, and tongue. Rachel shrugged her other shoulder, a seductive stretch of the yoga-toned muscles of her back, and let the garment fall off both of her shoulders, exposing her chest.

His forehead pressed against hers and his breath hot on her cheek, Jesse looked down at her breasts. He was completely enthralled. He never missed a chance to appreciate Rachel's body. Even though there are things that other people, and even she, would change, Jesse loved every inch of her and thought she was perfect just the way she was.

Meeting Rachel's eyes again, he gave her a wolfish grin before covering her right breast with his hand and kissing her hungrily, his tongue plunging into her mouth. The rough pad of his thumb ran over her nipple and Rachel responded by gripping the hair at the base of his neck and cradling his hips between her legs.

Jesse's other hand slowly slid down Rachel's thigh before coming to rest over her left knee. Tracing over the maze of soft scars with his fingers, he gripped it tightly before he drew her leg up around his waist, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him completely.

Immediately, she hooked her ankles together behind him and wound both of her arms around his neck. She quickly slid down to the edge of the counter, grinding her hips hard against Jesse's as soon as they made contact.

Rachel smiled against his lips feeling his impressive erection brushing against her thigh, and Jesse nipped lightly at her full lower lip.

"Get naked, St. James," she ordered huskily, leaving no room for him to protest.

Not that he wanted to fight her on it in the first place.

"As you wish," he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.

His shirt went first, dropped to the floor next to their small round breakfast table, a couple of buttons sacrificed in the fight to get it off as fast as possible.

Unable to remain still, especially now, Rachel wrapped her hands around his belt buckle and loosened it as quickly and efficiently as he had the tie of her robe. She popped open the button and unzipped his fly, her hands shaking with intense desire.

His shoes had been kicked off as soon as he walked through the door, and Jesse pushed his jeans and boxers down his legs, only pulling away from Rachel for a second so that he could step out of them.

Reclaiming her lips in a passionately possessive kiss, he lifted her up off the counter to carry her to the bedroom. As if her naked body wrapped up in his wasn't enough, his hands were cradling her ass as he carried her, one of his favorite parts of her. He was positive he has leaving marks the size of his fingertips on her, he was gripping her so tightly.

Rachel broke the kiss to move her lips to the pale column of his neck. The moment she flicked her tongue out to taste his skin and feel his pulse beat against her tongue, Jesse felt himself grow painfully hard. The touch of her soft, full lips on his skin, the warmth of her increasingly heated desire against the hard, smooth plane of his abs…it was too much for him.

Jesse stopped against the far wall of their living room, just next to the window. Fuck it if people saw him. There was no way he could make it to the bed.

"Here?" Rachel gasped next to his ear, feeling the solid wall at her back, cushioned slightly by the soft robe still hanging on her arms, and his warm, smooth chest at her front.

"Yep," he grunted, adjusting himself at her entrance.

He thrust into her hard in one smooth motion and he felt her short fingernails dig into the muscles of his shoulders.

"Oh…_kay_," she agreed, sighing breathily, relishing the feeling of him filling her so completely.

Jesse started to move, steadily thrusting into her, slowly at first and then harder, whispering little nonsense words of love against her neck.

Rachel let her hands trail down over his biceps, the muscles taut and bulging with the effort of supporting her slight weight and thrusting into her warm and welcoming body. She brushed her thumbs against those muscles of his, and in her haze of desire, she remembered times when he had lifted her and tossed her, laying her gently on the floor of a ballet studio in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio.

Rachel tipped her head back against the wall, inviting Jesse to lavish her throat with nips and kisses to the soft skin, which he did eagerly.

With Jesse's strong arms and the wall at her back supporting her, Rachel met his thrusts each time with a roll of her hips in perfect tandem. She focused on the sensation of him moving inside her, filling her again and again, and she lost herself in the moment.

Jesse adjusted the angle of his thrust, shifted her hips just slightly, and suddenly his dick was creating the perfect amount of friction against her clit. Then, Rachel wasn't thinking about anything but this moment she was in, this wall she was up against, this man that was inside her.

Her climax wasn't a slow build this time, but rather it was a sudden explosion. Her toes curled and her legs clasped his waist tighter, keeping him still for a moment as her walls pulsed and contracted around him.

He thrust into her a few more times, hard and shallow with his forehead pressed to her temple, before he came inside her. His strangled groan reverberated in her ear and she finally relaxed the muscles of her thighs, savoring the moment.

Slowly, once his heart rate calmed slightly and some of the blood returned to his brain, Jesse pulled out and gently lowered Rachel to the ground, keeping a firm grip on her until he was sure she could stand on her own.

"You alright, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," she breathed, gasping for air and laughing at the same time. "Just give me a minute."

He nodded, and kissed her sweat-dampened hairline. He was still holding her in his arms, her naked body pressed close to his.

"Okay," she said finally, pulling her robe back up over her shoulders, her legs feeling less like jelly than they had a few minutes earlier. "I think I can walk."

He held her hand as they moved the final few feet into their bedroom. He started toward the bed, but frowned when he felt her moving in the opposite direction.

"Go," she told him when he looked over at her, brow furrowed. "I'm going to clean up real quick," she added with a kiss to his cheek.

Jesse sat on the edge of the bed and cleaned himself up quickly before he slipped underneath the crisp sheets, stretching out to relax his overused muscles. Tucking an arm under his head, he looked out the window at the city, keeping one eye on the doorway to the bathroom.

Like an angel, she emerged a minute later, her robe gone, and padded over to the bed. Pulling the sheets and duvet tight around them, she fit her warm, soft, naked body against Jesse's solid, muscular one.

"I love you so much," she whispered, her face framed in the moonlight streaming through their window.

Jesse kissed her softly before replying with just as much emotion, "I love _you_ so much, forever."

She smiled and kissed his chest before settling in to sleep. Rachel had a habit of wiggling her entire body, burrowing into the sheets and blankets of their bed. When she heaved a huge contented sigh, and he felt her muscles relax against his, Jesse knew that she had finally found a place she could fall asleep in.

He couldn't help himself, though, and his voice broke the intimate silence not a minute later.

"Now that you officially live here, am I going to have to redecorate?"

Rachel laughed quietly, her body shaking next to his.

"Oh, yeah," she answered. "First thing to go? Your beloved blue and gold Bruins corner in the living room."

"It's…sentimental," Jesse half-heartedly protested.

"It's an eye sore," she insisted playfully, smiling in the light of the New York night filtering into their room from the city outside.

Jesse was silent for a moment, seemingly considering the potential loss of his college memorabilia.

"You're worth it. I'd do anything for you."

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

The anniversary of her accident came quietly, almost managing to sneak up on them. The night before it she was lying next to Jesse, her body curled into his, her head resting on his chest, and it suddenly hit her.

"It's tomorrow," she whispered.

Jesse slowly kissed the top of her head, rested his cheek against her soft hair, and said, "We'll get through it together."

And, _with him_, she got through it. She managed to only dissolve into painfully bitter tears of anger once.

After she was done crying, Jesse kissed her so hard it was impossible to forget that she was alive.

That was kind of a miracle.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Rachel turned twenty-two on a Sunday, and they spent the entire morning wrapped in each other's arms making love, slow and sweet.

She went with him to his matinee show that afternoon and met him backstage, all glowing smiles and gushing comments about his performance. They left the theater together and from then until the moment they stepped back inside their apartment, he only let go of her hand to sign a few autographs and open doors for her.

He took her out for a birthday dinner to the latest up and coming restaurant and they spent the night sharing intimate smiles and a bottle of her favorite wine.

"This was so lovely, thank you," she told him, tracing a design in the pool of chocolate on their dessert plate. "But I'd _really _like to go home."

Hearing her soft, lust-laced tone; he didn't need to be told twice. He left a few bills on the table and grabbed her hand to pull her out the door.

When they got home, he carried her to the bedroom and laid her out on their bed.

Slowly, he slid his hands up her body, peeling her silk dress off of her as he went.

He kissed every inch of her body that night, and traced declarations of his love into her skin with his lips.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Rachel never imagined that the one-off, chance performance that Jesse arranged would change anything. But, change things it did.

A month after the night at the piano bar, and a week and a half into the new year, Rachel got a call from a number she didn't recognize as she was leaving a lesson.

"Hello?"

"Rachel, it's Caleb, Jesse's friend, the pianist."

"Of course!" she responded brightly, concealing her confusion about why he was calling her. "How are you?"

"Good. I was hoping I could meet up with you. I have an exciting professional opportunity to talk to you about."

Immediately after he said that, Rachel's heart started to beat a little faster. The prospect of the last piece of the puzzle clicking into place finally…Rachel felt the weight on her shoulders start to lighten a little bit.

"When are you available?"

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

She mentioned the call to Jesse as she was making dinner that night and she wasn't at all surprised when he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"Did you set this up?" she asked, a slightly accusing tone in the question.

She wanted success; still craved fame like a junkie needed a fix. But she didn't want to achieve it on Jesse's coattails. She needed to do it in her own right.

"No," he said immediately. "Caleb was talking to me about some stuff and I mentioned that you might be in a better position to help him."

"That's _it_?" she asked skeptically, looking up from the lentils she was stirring to watch his face for a reaction.

"Really," he said with finality. "But you should bring some of your music," he added cryptically.

"My music?" She'd been writing off and on for the past five years, but after her accident she channeled a lot of the anger, frustration, and heartache into some amazing music. Jesse had made no secret of the fact that he thought she was good enough to make it as a singer on her own, or as a songwriter. But he was biased.

"Pick your three favorite songs and bring them to the meeting," he shrugged.

"Jesse, what's going on?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," he responded cheekily. He grinned at her from across the bar and popped a cherry tomato from the salad bowl into his mouth.

Rachel sighed as she moved pieces of salmon from the baking sheet to their respective plates.

"Fine, don't tell me. But just know that I _will _be asleep when you get home tonight," she said, making it clear to him that not elaborating would cost him sex.

Jesse came around the bar into the kitchen, and stood behind her. Resting a hand on her shoulder, he quietly, sincerely said, "I want this to be a surprise for you."

She couldn't really be mad at him after that.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

The next morning Rachel walked into an unfamiliar coffee shop in Greenwich Village. She noticed the sign had some cutesy name like "The Daily Grind" or something like that, but she didn't really register what it was. Her mind was racing.

Caleb was already there, ensconced in a booth in the corner, his bald head and thick black-rimmed glasses making him stand out among the other patrons.

"Hello," Rachel smiled warmly, sitting down across from him with her piping hot soy mocha latte.

"Hey," he greeted her before leaning across the table to kiss her cheek.

They did the small talk thing, but Rachel was practically bursting out of her skin. _How was she? How was he? How was Nathan? How was Jesse? _It was almost too much.

"I guess you're probably wondering why I asked to meet you," he started. "Jesse told me you write, and I've been asked by a business associate in L.A. to write the soundtrack for his new movie. I was wondering if you would like to collaborate, and then perform some of the songs for the album."

Rachel sat there in shock for a full minute and a half. This was a major step up from her day job of giving private lessons to snotty brats and anyone else that would pay her. This could easily get her foot in the door of at least three distinct parts of the entertainment business. She could be discovered through this.

"Me?" she asked.

"Yeah, you," Caleb responded, confused.

"But you don't even know me. I sang with you _once_."

"Look, I know Jesse, and I know his eye for talent. If he says you can write, I believe him. And, yeah, you sang with me once, but you blew me away."

"So this is because of Jesse?" she asked defensively. She was more unwilling than ever to allow who she was sleeping with to contribute to her quest for fame.

"No," he told her quickly and firmly, sensing her discomfort and understanding the motivation. "This is for a lot of reasons. You can sing, you're here and not in L.A., and…I just like you. You seem fun."

Rachel paused at that. She hadn't been called fun in…well, in quite a while.

"Okay. Would you like to see some of my songs?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yeah," Caleb responded enthusiastically. "Absolutely."

Rachel pulled the folder she brought with her from her bag and started to hand it across the table but pulled back, suddenly feeling extremely nervous at the last second.

"These are my babies," she told him intensely. "There is a year of my life in this folder."

Caleb rested a comfortingly warm hand on top of hers.

"I'll be nice to your babies, I promise."

In his eyes Rachel saw sincerity, saw that he identified with her connection to her music. She could trust him.

She let go of the folder and he opened it, immediately spreading the first song out in front of him.

Rachel watched his face for any sign, positive or negative, of what he thought, but she couldn't pick anything out. He flipped a few more pages, and glanced at the rest of what was filed away neatly in the folder.

Caleb studied the pages carefully for several tense minutes before he sat back in the booth and looked across the table at Rachel.

"You have some very unique chord progressions in there," he told her. "I think you'd be perfect to work on this soundtrack with."

"You liked my songs?" she asked, a little breathless with the thrill of excellence once again filling her body.

"No," he corrected her assumption. "I _loved_ your songs. When can we get started meeting regularly?"

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

Rachel got home two hours later, utterly exhausted from thinking about all the details and rearranging her schedule, but elated at the prospect of finally doing something she was passionate about.

"How did your meeting go?" Jesse asked with a smile from his place on the couch, pausing _Some Like It Hot_.

"It went so well," she gushed, joining him on the couch. She sat next to him stretching her legs out on the other end of the couch, her entire body humming with the thrill of a new opportunity. "I'm really excited about this."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. The movie sounds really interesting. Mine and Caleb's styles are similar enough that we should work well together, but different enough that the things we'll be coming up with will be new to both of us and, I think, very unique."

She looked at Jesse and saw the pure elation on his face from seeing her so happy. When she was happy, he was happy. They were in it together.

"Rachel, that's great. I'm beyond thrilled for you," Jesse told her, resting a hand on the space of tanned skin exposed from her skirt riding up her thigh.

Looking into his eyes, she saw that he really was happy for her. It wasn't a Broadway role, and she wouldn't be a household name overnight. There wouldn't be a standing ovation. There was no way to know if anyone would even see the movie or buy the soundtrack.

But all that mattered was that Jesse looked at her like she was the most talented person he'd ever seen. He looked at her like he _knew_ she would be a household name one day, getting standing ovations every night.

Who knows, maybe she would.

Things were finally getting back on track, _finally_ looking up.

Jesse pulled her over so that she was sitting across his lap, and started kissing a slow line from her ear down her neck to her collarbone. His hand trailed slowly down her neck and chest to begin unbuttoning her blouse to remove it, and Rachel relaxed against the arm of the couch, letting her head fall back and just enjoying the moment.

"Oh," she moaned a little breathlessly, interrupting him even though they'd just started. "Caleb wants us to come over and join him and Nathan for Scrabble sometime soon."

"Mm-hmm," Jesse mumbled into the swell of her right breast, nudging the cup of her bra lower with his index finger, not really caring what he just agreed to so long as he didn't have to stop what he was doing right now.

Rachel's elbow knocked the remote control to the floor, and as it hit the carpet, Marilyn Monroe started singing about _running wild_ and _losing control_.

Not missing a beat, Jesse adjusted their positions so that Rachel was beneath him. She reached for his shirt and pulled it over his head. Biting her lip, she ran her hand down his muscular chest. Letting her fingertips caress his pecks and abs, she took a moment to appreciate his rigorous workout routine.

"Are you done ogling me?" Jesse asked with a chuckle.

Despite the years that had passed since they were horny, barely controllable teenagers, and the six months she'd been living with him, Rachel still blushed at that.

"I'd like to return the attention," he whispered huskily in her ear.

She closed her eyes as he opened the zipper of her skirt and pulled the garment off of her. She heard him toss it over the back of the couch. She was spread out underneath him, only her matching purple lace bra and panties clothing her.

His hand came to the front clasp of her bra and suddenly she was topless. Not that she really minded.

Jesse took a moment to appreciate Rachel, just as he said he would, trailing a hand down her chest in turn, brushing the hard peaks of her nipples with his fingertips.

Rachel opened her eyes when his hand stopped at her waist and gripped the soft skin there, telling her without words that he wanted her to see what he was going to do next. Her feet were resting flat against the couch, with Jesse settled between her knees, and her heels dug into the soft cushions beneath her in anticipation of what was coming next.

Jesse slid his hands over her hips, hooking a finger into each side of her panties and pulling them slowly down her legs. He threw them over his shoulder before moving her legs to rest on his shoulders. He bent his head and softly kissed a line from the space between her breasts, past her bellybutton, over the toned muscles of her abdomen.

Only a few teasing, seductive swipes of his tongue later she was gripping his hair and demanding more from him. Ever since they'd started all Rachel wanted was the feeling of him, hot and hard, filling her over and over again.

She pushed at his boxers with her feet and Jesse pulled back laughing.

"Please, let me," he told her in his most gentlemanly tone, even though there was a desire-strained quality infusing in his voice.

He pushed his boxers down far enough that he was exposed and lowered himself down on top of her again. Taking the lead, Rachel took him in her hand and positioned him at her entrance before urging him on with her heels against his back.

When he thrust into her Rachel felt the thick muscles of his back move beneath her palms. Jesse set a rhythm, his strokes even but fast and hard.

Rachel arched off the couch each time he thrust into her, loving the primal satisfaction she felt at being claimed by him like this. That was the thought looping in her head as she pulled him closer, latching her lips onto his neck and hitching her right leg higher up on his waist.

Jesse sank deeper into her on the next thrust and he had to groan. He could swear she felt tighter than she ever had before.

Normally Rachel liked a little more finesse and romance when they made love. But sometimes, she just liked to be fucked. Soft caresses just couldn't replace the thrill she got from Jesse holding her tight, thrusting into her hard and leaving marks on her skin with his teeth.

Coming from the high she was on earlier, this was just what she needed, the perfect way for her to expend some of this extra excitement.

Jesse hit a particularly sensitive spot and Rachel let out a high pitched cry of ecstasy. One more deep thrust from him was all it took to send her careening into an orgasm like no other.

He came half a breath after her, spilling into her body and muffling his moan against the crook of her neck.

Lying together in a sweat-slick and sticky mess for a few minutes, they both finally decided that it would be better to enjoy their post-coital haze in bed. Jesse got off the couch first, pulling his boxers back up over his hips, and flicking the TV off with the remote. Rachel moved slowly, a small grimace on her face as she stood upright.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his tone tender and concerned; so different than the frantic way he'd been pounding into her just minutes ago.

"Yes," she assured him, running her hand through his disheveled hair. "A little sore, but very, _very _happy."

He laughed and started pulling her by the hand toward the bedroom to shower when her eyes landed on the couch.

"Fuck!"

"We just did, but if you give me a minute…"

"No," Rachel told him, rolling her eyes. "Look at the couch."

Jesse looked over at the couch he'd had since he moved into this apartment, and he understood why she'd swore. In their passion for the moment, and him not thinking of much other than his cock, they'd managed to break the springs under one side of the sofa. Then there were the cushions, which he didn't really want to bother cleaning.

"We'll get a new one," he shrugged.

"Really?" she asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"Why not? You never liked this one, and that's what trust funds are for."

"Trust funds are for when you break your couch by having wild sex with your girlfriend? Somehow I doubt that that's what your parents intended for you to use the money on," she laughed.

"Unforeseen expenses," he corrected her with a smirk. "We can break as many couches as you want, sweetheart. I got us covered," he winked.

Instead of rolling her eyes again, Rachel smirked seductively and said, "Good to know," before walking into the bedroom, her hips swaying with each step.

Jesse fell more in love with her than he already was.

The End.

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong>I think this is it for this Rachel/Jesse series, and I just want to say that I loved writing it. I hope you can tell that from reading it. I love these characters both so much.

Don't think this is the last Jesse/Rachel I'm going to be writing! I have an idea that I really love that I'm going to be writing for a BigBang challenge on LiveJournal.

Thanks again for reading!


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